


you love me so sweetly

by sweetricebuns



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Rimming, they are so in love. I did not intend this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:48:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25231891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetricebuns/pseuds/sweetricebuns
Summary: “Please,” Damen said. “Let me show you how good this can be.”
Relationships: Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 197





	you love me so sweetly

**Author's Note:**

> i opened up the google doc thinking "i'm going to write 500 words of damen eating laurent's ass!" next thing i know i'm 600 words in and the ass-eating is no where in sight. THAT is how inherently sappy these two are i hate it here i love them so much
> 
> (unedited)

A pleasant laugh erupted out of Laurent as he watched Damen fumble hastily with his sandals at the foot of their bed. “Shall I call in a servant to help you, Exalted?”

“You would not attend to your husband?” Damen shot back distractedly. His syllables were slurred, and he spoke in Akielon, the way he usually did after too many a pitcher of wine. He let out a triumphant grunt as he finally loosened the straps of his sandals, sitting himself down on the bed as he shook his feet haphazardly to get them off.

It was a silly sight, and Laurent found himself bizarrely charmed. “But I do so love to watch my husband struggle,” he said, straddling Damen’s lap. Damen’s thighs were firm under his weight, strong and solid and real. Oh, how he loved this man. Giddy with the thought of it, he repeated, “My husband.”

Laurent watched as Damen’s eyes filled with hazy, drunken delight. It was no secret that Damen enjoyed it when Laurent was generous with his affections, basked in it like a bloom might in the sunlight. Laurent, in turn, enjoyed lavishing Damen with it.

“My husband,” Damen echoed, arms coming to wrap around Laurent’s waist. His embrace was warm, and Laurent felt he could drown in it. “My love.”

“Am I?” Laurent murmured as he wrapped his arms around Damen’s neck. His own speech was slurred, and he couldn’t tell whether he responded in Akielon or Veretian. It was hard to really think past _Damen_.

“My love,” Damen said. “My king.” The words came earnestly, sweet and kind as Damen placed a soft kiss on the highs of each of Laurent’s cheeks. Laurent’s breath hitched. He felt like he was swimming in honey. “My Laurent.” 

He could take it no longer. “Yes,” Laurent whispered, waiting for no response before pulling Damen into a searing kiss.

Their mouths moved together urgently. It was slick, and Damen tasted rather strongly of the rich wine they had at dinner. Laurent couldn’t get enough of it. He deepened the kiss further, tightening his arms around Damen’s neck and rocking forward in Damen’s lap in an attempt to get closer.

They had barely parted when Damen lifted Laurent and turned around, moving onto the bed on his knees and placing Laurent in the center of it as he slotted himself between Laurent’s legs. The sudden movement, coupled with the heaviness of his head from the wine, was dizzying. Laurent whimpered. Instantly, Damen’s hand came up to rest on his cheek in apology, thumb swiping soothingly across Laurent’s cheekbone. They were silent for a moment.

“You are otherworldly,” Damen said, awestruck. He was looking down at Laurent, his eyes wide and beseeching. “There is no other way to explain your beauty.”

Laurent couldn’t help the besotted smile tugging at his lips. “You may write me poems another day,” he said, voice dripping with mirth. “We have other matters to attend to, now.” Laurent wrapped his legs around Damen’s hips, pulling him in. Their groins were pressed against each other through the fabric of their chitons, and Damen’s breath hitched at the contact.

“Have faith.” Damen’s eyes twinkled. He leaned back, trailing fingers up Laurent’s chest before undoing the clasp at Laurent’s shoulder. “I shall dedicate poetry to you, and see to your pleasure at the same time.” He made quick work of Laurent’s chiton, baring him before divesting himself of his own.

“Of course,” agreed Laurent, breathlessly. The sight of Damen naked above him would always be something to behold. “You are a man of many talents.”

At that, Damen leered. “Shall I show you just how many?” Laurent laughed, charmed, and nodded. He pulled Damen down by his shoulders so that the other was over him. Damen wasted no time capturing Laurent’s lips in another kiss, brief but no less sweet than the ones they had shared over the course of the night.

“Oh,” Laurent sighed, breathing Damen’s name as Damen trailed kisses down the line of his throat. His fingers wove themselves loosely through Damen’s curls, almost combing through them. Laurent was grinding against Damen almost mindlessly, the point of contact between them so dizzyingly arousing with every roll of his hips upwards.

The bed dipped as Damen rested his weight on one hand, the other—rough, calloused, familiar—moving down his body to grip at his ass. Damen had begun to respond to the movement of Laurent’s hips with thrusts of his own, his mouth parted slightly in concentration.

They had come to full hardness like that, moving against one another. It was easy for Laurent to lose himself in the haze of the pleasure, burying his face in the crook Damen’s neck. His breath was quickening, coming out in fast, short pants, and Laurent would have been embarrassed by the speed at which he felt himself crescendoing if not for the alcohol speeding through his veins.

“Damen,” Laurent moaned, moving to grip at Damen’s shoulders.

Damen pulled away.

“Damen,” said Laurent again, louder. He thrusted up, desperate for some form of contact but only meeting air. He was close, so close—

“Steady, my love,” Damen murmured. He gripped at Laurent’s bucking hips, stilling their movement. The fire raging in Laurent’s belly only roared on. “I want to do something for you.”

There was promise in Damen’s voice, and a muted excitement.

Damen moved further up the bed and lied down, head resting on the pillows. He beckoned Laurent forward wordlessly, and Laurent crawled up to Damen so that he found himself in the same position they were in earlier, with Laurent on Damen’s lap, but Damen shook his head.

“What—”

“Up here,” Damen said, gesturing with his chin as he gently urged Laurent with his hands on his hips. “And turn around.”

And it clicked.

“Damen,” Laurent began, uncertain.

“Please,” Damen said. “Let me show you how good this can be.”

Laurent nodded. He moved slowly, and Laurent couldn’t help but flush, feeling much like an innocent being taken to bed for the very first time. This was new.

Damen, he noticed, was still fully hard.

As soon as Laurent was positioned, Damen let out a heavy exhale. “Oh, love.” Damen’s hands gripped at the cheeks of Laurent’s ass, parting them to reveal Laurent’s entrance. “I’m going to make you feel so good.” His breath was warm, damp. Laurent’s cock twitched.

Laurent didn’t know how to respond. Poised like this in front of Damen, he felt vulnerable, exposed. He wished the wine would help, but by now their earlier intoxication had faded into a pleasant underlying buzz. He wanted this to be easy, to share this with his husband. Distantly, he marvelled at how new things still felt with Damen, despite their years together.

He felt Damen’s nose brush at the cleft of his cheek and inhaled sharply. When Damen pressed a kiss against his entrance, Laurent keened.

“Bear down,” Damen urged, slightly muffled. Wildly, Laurent felt like laughing. “Relax for me.”

“You speak to me like I am a wild horse,” Laurent said, mildly affronted. Still, he complied.

Damen bit at the soft flesh of his cheeks, and Laurent rocked his hips back in response. “Am I not the horse, and you the rider?” Laurent let out a strangled laugh. The sound quickly morphed into a groan as Damen dragged his tongue over Laurent’s hole.

“Oh,” Laurent breathed out, rocking down. Encouraged, Damen laved his tongue over Laurent’s entrance in earnest repeatedly. He traced the ring with the tip, before pushing it in, feeling the muscle give and let him in. Laurent could only gasp in pleasure, murmuring expletives as Damen opened him up. “Good, Damen, so good.”

Damen hummed, and Laurent cried at the vibrations against his rim. “Please,” Laurent moaned. “Damen—”

“Touch yourself,” he heard Damen command, voice rough. Without a second thought, Laurent complied, lost to the pleasure of Damen’s tongue thrusting in and out of him. He closed his fist around the base of his cock, squeezing firmly and letting out a broken moan.

His skin buzzed, the world and all of it so fuzzy except for himself and Damen. Laurent moved his fist up and down, his pace quickening the further he got into it. It was overwhelming, near maddening—he felt his belly tighten, felt the heat in his body travel through every single vein in rapid shots. “Damianos— Damen— Please, I’m going to—” Laurent crooned, voice loud and uninhibited as the sound of it echoed around their chambers.

It was there, it was so close. He pushed his ass back against Damen’s face, desperate for more pleasure, for release, for Damen Damen _Damen_. When Laurent felt Damen press a finger against his rim, pushing it in alongside his tongue, thrusting and thrusting and thrusting, alongside the tight, massaging grip of Damen’s other hand on his ass, Laurent could do nothing but give himself over to the pleasure. His back arched as far as it could go, mouth open in a silent scream as he came.

Damen never stopped, not even in the throes of Laurent’s orgasm. He was fingering Laurent with two fingers, scissoring them and thrusting his tongue in the gap the V of his fingers left. Damen’s ministrations only intensified the shocks going through Laurent’s body, and Laurent was helpless to it.

“Too much,” Laurent sobbed, his hips gyrating still. His body was stuck in limbo, confused and unsure whether he wanted more or less. “I can’t, Damen, oh—”

Damen pulled his fingers and his tongue out of Laurent’s hole, and Laurent didn’t know whether to cry in loss or in relief. He placed a final kiss on Laurent’s rim, at which Laurent whimpered, before fully stopping.

“Laurent,” Damen said, voice low and breathy. “I need you. Love, Laurent—”

It had occurred then to Laurent that this entire time, Damen’s cock had remained untouched. When he looked at it, it stood proudly—hard and rigid. The foreskin was pulled back, revealing its purpling head, and the slick that had accumulated at the tip.

Oh, Damen, his sweet, sweet Damen.

“Come,” Laurent said. “Fuck me.”

Damen wasted no time maneuvering them, so that Laurent was atop Damen’s cock, his back pressed tightly to Damen’s chest.

“The oil,” Laurent reminded, tucking his face into the junction between Damen’s neck and shoulder. Damen reached over for the pot of oil they kept beside the bed, dipping fingers into it before coating his cock in its slick. He guided his cock to Laurent’s hole, pressing the tip against the entrance. He was still so loose, his rim giving easily as Laurent slid down Damen’s length.

They moaned in unison. Laurent’s hands came up to grip Damen’s hair, while Damen’s hands fell onto the slope of Laurent’s hips, guiding him as Damen thrust up into him.

“So good, Damen,” Laurent gasped. He would never tire of the way Damen made him feel so _full_.

“Laurent,” Damen said, “I’m not going to last.” He was thrusting vigorously, fast and hard and seeking release. He brushed Laurent’s prostate with every thrust, and it made the back of Laurent’s eyes burn with overwhelming pleasure.

“Yes,” Laurent begged. “In me, Damen, this is perfect. I feel so good.” He was babbling, mindlessly mumbling praise as Damen thrust his cock into Laurent relentlessly. Laurent’s cock was filling, again, albeit slowly.

It took two more thrusts before Damen came, spilling into Laurent with a punched out groan. Laurent moaned at the sensation, feeling heat gather low in his belly once again. It simmered gently, not pressing, but pleasurable.

When Damen began to move to pull out of Laurent, Laurent made a sound of distress.

“Like this, first,” Laurent had breathed, resting against Damen’s chest. From where they were pressed against each other, their bodies slick with exertion and sweat, Laurent could feel Damen’s heartbeat—and he was sure Damen could feel his.

Damen dropped a kiss onto Laurent’s nape. “For you,” he said, breathlessly, “anything.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you're all safe!
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](https://laurentism.tumblr.com/)! i've got an au in my head where damen's a youth leader at some church who meets laurent the social worker and boy oh boy do i want to talk about them


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